


black coffee, no sugar

by silveryyy



Series: Amasai Week 2020 [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Again, Alternate Universe - No Hope's Peak Academy (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Amasai Week, Amasai Week 2020, Angst, But mostly fluff, Car Accidents, First Meetings, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No New Dangan Ronpa V3 Spoilers, Not Canon Compliant - New Dangan Ronpa V3, POV Amami Rantaro, dance/injury, everyone is quite literally ten years old, take this as foreshadowing if you want, this killed my soul because i don't know how to write fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:08:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23189008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveryyy/pseuds/silveryyy
Summary: He wonders if the boy is alright. Rantaro still feels like he’s back in time, sitting shotgun in his father’s limo, staring at the unconscious body sprawled across the pavement. He feels as if the moment had frozen, and he was still there. He feels himself move on instinct, harshly unlocking the door and kicking it open. It’s as if his body is on autopilot as he runs over to the boy’s side, ignoring the crimson flooding out and staining the pavement, like an infant’s grubby fingers spreading finger paint all over their canvas, running like rivers sliding through the slits between the tiny stones that padded the road so uniformly, like the life slipping out of the boy through the blood away from him.The sanguine bleeds everywhere, weaving between the boy’s fingers and matting his midnight-coloured hair. In the twilight, the boy’s silhouette is coated with a sheen of warm muted periwinkle, rimmed in golden light from the sun that’s almost completely set, and it would be such a beautiful sight if not for the fact that Rantaro knows the boy can and will die if he doesn’t hurry..-.Rantaro's father runs over a child, and Rantaro waits the night at the hospital to apologize.
Relationships: Amami Rantaro & Harukawa Maki, Amami Rantaro/Saihara Shuichi
Series: Amasai Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664734
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	black coffee, no sugar

**Author's Note:**

> written for amasai week day 2! the prompt is dance/injury and obviously i chose the latter, and this really, really was supposed to be fluff but,,,,,,, told you i'm not capable of it. fluff? what's that?? is it edible?????
> 
> i'm sorry the ending is sloppy because i got this idea right after i posted sea glass and had to rewrite this whole thing completely in a day. and the characterization is horribly slaughtered i'm sorry,,,, i hope y'all still like this though
> 
> ALSO: i changed my mind this is in the same universe as sea glass and acts as a prequel :)))))

Rantaro isn’t a stranger to hospitals. 

True, he’s not really the type of child to get hurt every other day- he has a knack for dealing with dangerous situations, and almost never gets injured, but some of his sisters are rather careless especially when they get passionate (Riku, especially, is prone to a lot of accidents, with how she bounces everywhere with such spirited bursts of fire), and he often finds himself there to support them.

But rarely does he find himself in such a bad spot that he has to visit the hospital. He isn’t even really hurt physically- he’d only hit his head a little, but the police had insisted on taking him here to get checked over by the doctor. 

The hospital is such a blinding alabaster that Rantaro flinches every time he blinks. It’s so quiet, too, so silent that he can hear clearly every buzz and tremble of the air conditioner. It feels creepy, in a way, and it’s even more obvious being completely alone here in this room. He feels the shivers running down his spine as he waits for the doctor to return.

He’s never been alone in the hospital before, not without at least one member of his family with him. After all, he has one biological mother, three other stepmothers, and twelve sisters, although admittedly most are missing, but no matter what had happened, there would always be at least one person by his side. It’s not that he doesn’t like the silence, he loves being alone, but at a time like this, he would give anything for any of his sisters to be here for him. 

(He still misses them every day: each and every of them was so special to him, the brightest stars in his night, the brightest blossoms in his gardens. He remembers every detail of each of the nine girls that have gone missing so vividly, as if it were burnt and imprinted onto his eyelids- Amaka’s fierce protectivity when things went wrong, Hanako’s vibrant liveliness when she was passionate, Ena’s composed calmness that always soothed him easily, Naoko’s energetic laughter when she led her sisters in activities, Akari’s wide smile that she constantly wore on her face, Rina’s tender, seamless care towards everyone she met, Yuki’s quiet thoughtfulness and curiosity towards everything she saw, Inori’s soft touch as her arms wrapped around Rantaro, Minori’s sweet innocence towards everyone… he misses them all dearly.) 

But it’s not something he could control. His father nearly killed a child, after all. They told him, after the interrogation and taking Rantaro’s testimony in this small room, that he could see his sisters and mothers again when the doctor had finished examining him and had given him a pass. After the numerous tests the medical team had run on him, they’d all disappeared, leaving Rantaro here alone, with the images of the boy (probably around his age, give or take a few months, which isn’t really saying much since Rantaro himself is only twelve and a half, but still. Rantaro has this thing, where he can’t help but feel a brotherly attachment to people younger than him) hit by the car, _his father’s_ car, and he can’t help but feel the fear growing like crystal spikes in a chemical solution, in his heart, and feel the ice run down his spine. 

It’s just like there’s a ghost just behind him, berating him for not stopping his father in time, that it’s partly his fault, and truth be told, Rantaro knows that really well. The car was only driving along that road because they’d only just lost Amaka in Liechtenstein, and she was the one sister Rantaro could rely on and truly lean on for support when he couldn’t say anything to the others out of guilt for making them worry (maybe because she’s only a few months younger, and he feels less guilt for piling his burdens onto her?), and Rantaro had been really crushed over her loss, and his father had offered to take him along for a business outing to cheer him up, maybe just a little. His father had had to take a detour because of this, and this had happened as a result.

He wonders if the boy is alright. Rantaro still feels like he’s back in time, sitting shotgun in his father’s limo, staring at the unconscious body sprawled across the pavement. He feels as if the moment had frozen, and he was still _there_ , watching his father freeze and do nothing. He feels himself move on instinct, grabbing his backpack, which fortunately still held first aid materials from his previous trip, harshly unlocking the door and kicking it open. It’s as if his body is on autopilot as he runs over to the boy’s side, ignoring the crimson colour flooding out and staining the pavement, like an infant’s grubby fingers spreading finger paint all over their canvas, running like rivers sliding through the slits between the tiny grey stones that padded the road so uniformly, like the life slipping out of the boy through the blood _away_ from him.

The sanguine bleeds everywhere, weaving between the boy’s fingers and matting his midnight-coloured hair. In the twilight, the boy’s silhouette is coated with a sheen of warm muted periwinkle, rimmed in golden light from the sun that’s almost completely set, and it would be such a beautiful sight if not for the fact that Rantaro knows the boy can and will die if he doesn’t hurry. Rantaro kneels, not caring that the sticky liquid is soaking through his jeans, or that the stones are rough and brushes harshly against his knees, and takes the boy’s hand. It’s soft and his wrist is so small, he’s reminded of his sisters, but he brushes that thought away and takes his pulse. He sighs in complete relief as he detects one, and he lets one of his hands hover over the boy to find the wound, as he rummages through his bag to find his phone and call the ambulance. 

All this, though, is stopped, as his hand flits over his nose and feels the weak breathing. He’s so shocked and concerned all of a sudden that he nearly drops the phone in the middle of giving the address. He hastily finishes the call, and immediately goes to measure the breathing. It’s so weak, and he puts his hand on the boy’s lungs, immediately finding the huge wound spanning from his lungs to his upper torso. It’s probably deep, too. Rantaro can feel the fear and worry spike in his chest, he barely knows this kid but he _doesn’t want him to die._ He feels the suffocating helplessness, _he doesn’t know what to do_ , and he desperately wants to help but he _can’t_ and that seems like the greatest punishment of all, worse than dying himself- watching an innocent bystander, a _mere child_ , die by his mistake, having innocent blood on his hands. With no other choice left, he inhales, and leans down to try applying CPR-

He opens his eyes as he screams until his throat is dry and parched, and it feels raw and exposed, but nothing can tear the images off his mind. He gasps and gasps for breath, as if the guilt formed a rope and was strangling him as he was off in his reverie, rubbing his eyes as they focus, and he’s still in the overwhelmingly bright hospital room, has been all along, and the pavement stained with cardinal is gone, in the past. He screams, and screams, but no one comes, and he only feels worse that he did.

He inhales, and he realizes that he’s been crying, the tears streaming past his cheeks. He doesn’t even know if the kid is _alive,_ let alone _alright._

He hears the door slam open, and the light blue curtains (which were even more unsettlingly bright than the walls, if that was even possible- it’s like those kinds of blue that brightens white even more, like freshly fallen snow) were grabbed and pushed open with urgency. It’s the nurse who came to take his tests- Mikan Tsumiki-san, Rantaro remembers from previously looking at her name tag. She breathes deeply in complete relief when she sees Rantaro safe and unhurt, and her lavender eyes are so round and filled with fear that Rantaro instantly feels bad for alerting and scaring her.

“A-Amami-kun!” she exclaims, obviously shaken. “Are you alright? Y- you look-” she cuts herself off, and Rantaro realizes he must look really distraught, with tear tracks over his face and wide eyes full of distress. He nods, forcing a smile on his face, swiping at his face in an attempt to destroy all evidence of him crying.

The young nurse hands him a tissue wordlessly- she must’ve had a lot of experience with people like this, and he murmurs his thanks as he cleans his face. “Dr. Kamakura’s f-finished with your tests,” Mikan says, stuttering as she fumbles with the records she holds in her hand, “you’re clear and free to leave now. Your two sisters are waiting outside?”

“Two?” Rantaro asks in surprise immediately, faltering as Mikan seems to get nervous, “No, it’s okay, you probably didn’t count wrongly, maybe one’s just too busy to come around…”

He doesn’t blame them, either. He didn’t expect any of them to show up, close as he is with all of them, seeing as they’ve just lost another sibling- Sora’s own biological sister, no less- so he’s already pleasantly surprised. He smiles faintly at Mikan out of politeness, nods along as she talks him through all the procedures, tells him his father is at the police station. 

“Tsumiki-san?” he asks when she’s finished. “How’s the other boy? The one my father hit?”

The nurse looks rather surprised, “ Saihara-kun? H- he’s okay! The surgery was successful, and since he’s only eleven, and a child’s body has a quicker rate of mending itself, he’ll recover pretty soon! He’s still here for now, though, will be for the next month or so.”

Rantaro feels the relief spreading through his body. “That’s great,” he whispers. He thanks Mikan again before leaving, and soon enough he finds himself down the corridor to the main waiting lobby. The walls are painted a muted ivory, which soothes Rantaro’s eyes a little, despite still being white, and the wooden floorboards are a gorgeous light beige. It’s very clean, like one would expect in a hospital, but it’s still so.... Empty. Maybe people don’t really come along this side of the building, but Rantaro still finds it mildly unnerving.

He reaches the end of the hallway, and pushes open the door. His gaze immediately spots Riku, who sits quietly (what a contrast to her normal bubbly attitude) in one of the sofas in the corner of the lobby. He’s suddenly hit with a pang of emotion, as the image of a young girl, looking identical to Riku in every way except for her long hair when Riku keeps hers short, sitting in the exact same spot, quietly sitting still, but her cerulean eyes hold nothing but worry and concern and fear. He’s unable to stop a tear from rolling down his cheek as in his mind, five-year-old Rina does the same, her tiny hands trembling as they’re clasped on her knees. The image of her, her gorgeous azure eyes earnest and kind with the world in them, her long golden blonde hair like strands of sunlight woven into silk, pulled into her braid that Rantaro did for her every morning, her tiny feet tapping the air (she’s not tall enough for her feet to reach the ground) restlessly out of worry- he cannot unsee the young girl in her twin, even though they’re complete opposites. Where Riku is lively and spirited, Rina is quiet, but she had more kindness and sympathy in her tiny finger than most people had, like how Riku has more energy and laughter in hers than probably the whole world does. (except for maybe Naoko- that girl did nothing but laugh.)

Every time Riku had gotten into an accident, Rina had been there waiting for her without fail. The two were inseparable, two halves that complete each other perfectly, and they loved each other so much. It had completely broken Riku a year ago when Rina went missing in New Zealand that Riku had stopped being so reckless and while Rantaro was glad his sister didn’t get hurt so much anymore, it was disheartening and distressing to watch her of all people so utterly _void_ of life.

He pushes the thought away, puts on his mask of smiles again, and heads towards his sisters. Shiori sits next to Riku, with her arm around the younger girl, whispering comforting things into her ear. Her light brown hair cascaded in curls down her back and draped over Riku’s shoulder, and her attention was completely focused on Riku. 

It’s Riku who spots him first, squealing and leaping to her feet, bouncing over to wrap her arms around Rantaro, “Rantaro! We were worried sick! Are you alright? Were you hurt?”

He laughs, “I’m alright, Riku, Shiori. Don’t worry.” It feels so good to have the comfort of his sisters with him. They’re his lifeline, his whole world, no matter what.

Shiori offers him a smile. “I’m glad. Sora was asleep when we received the news, which is why she isn’t here, but if she could I’m sure she’d be here without a single second of hesitation.” Rantaro realizes as his stomach sinks that Shiori has picked up on his distress and probably deduced why. Despite being only nine, Shiori is _intuitive. Really_ intuitive.She’s clever, and picks up on emotions as easily as one completes the math question one plus one. It’s also why, despite being a middle child, she still has such a large presence in the house- Shiori simply cannot help but help everyone at every chance she gets, a trait she passed onto her younger biological sister, Inori. 

He grimaces slightly, and pushes away the thought of his second youngest sister. He can’t help but constantly think of his sisters, whenever he sees anything that might be remotely related to them. It’s something that constantly haunts him, a failure that he’s forced to live with. _If only I hadn’t lost them at all…_

Shoot. He completely forgot about Shiori, and he looks at her, dismayed, only to see her narrowing her eyes at him. She’s definitely caught on, considering that he confided in her more than once over this issue. (he’s not the type to keep things from his sisters, even though he tries not to stress them out as much as he can.) She walks closer, and hugs him once Riku releases him, whispering in his ear, “Rina and Inori would be relieved if they were here too. It’s not your fault,” before she pulls away and picks up RIku. “Come on, let’s go home.”

“You two go first,” Rantaro says, and his voice cracks as he thinks of the boy, hurting and aching as he sleeps. He feels the guilt drop into his stomach as he realizes that he’s happy and relieved while the boy is _hurting because of him_. “There’s something I have to check. Shiori, take care of Riku?”

Understanding flashes across Shiori’s face. “Alright. See you in the morning?” she searches his face, asking for an unspoken promise.

He nods. “See you in the morning.” Non-verbally, he promises his sister that he’ll come back, he’ll always come back.

He watches them leave until the shadows they leave behind are gone, then turns and runs to the counter urgently, “excuse me? May I ask where, uh,” he tries to recall the name Mikan told him, “Sa- Saihara-kun? I think? Is staying?”

The nurse at the counter looks mildly surprised, but after a brief explanation, Rantaro’s being led down countless corridors of white, to what probably is another side of the building. They reach a door, and the nurse pushes it open. He follows her out into the cool night air, the breeze immediately nestling into his hair and tousling it. In the night, the bright full moon hangs in the sky, glowing, and he wonders if his other sisters are also looking at the same night sky, looking up at the moon, across the world. 

He didn’t realize it was so late- that explains why there weren’t any people at all. The wind whistles in the air, winding around him, gentle and yet cold and sharp. It reminds him of Hanako and Ena, lost at the same time. They were lost unto the dark night, the cold and unforgiving, cruel span of darkness that covered half of the earth each night, and covered Rantaro’s whole world that one cold night in China. He wonders if they’re alright, if they’re adjusting to living in a communist country, a place where freedom is restricted and locked away in an unbreakable iron cell that will never see the light of day, a place with the life squeezed and pushed out of it, every single day dull and unmotivated. 

He’s led across the hospital gardens, into another wing of the hospital (apparently, it’s much bigger than he expected or anticipated it to be), and up a couple of floors. FInally, he’s led to a waiting room outside a single-patient hospital room. The waiting room is small, with a single sofa and a small coffee table, and the wall connected to the corridor is made of transparent glass.

“Visiting hours are over,” the nurse says, “but i can let you have a glimpse of him before you leave.” she goes to open the door, but Rantaro stops her, smiling politely when he looks at her. He’s not so rude to just _leave,_ not when this child is injured because of him. 

“It’s okay, thank you,” he tells the nurse, “I’ll just stay here until I’m allowed in.”

The nurse tries to persuade him otherwise, but he doesn’t budge, and soon the nurse gives up and slips out of the door. She comes back after a few minutes, though, and she wordlessly puts down a cup of hot chocolate and a few biscuits, smiles at him, and leaves again after Rantaro thanks her profusely.

Rantaro sits down on the sofa, and opens his backpack to bring out a couple of books- he has a habit of always carrying around a few in case things happen and he’s left with time to spare. He opens one, and he begins to read, immersed in his books until morning.

He doesn’t even know it’s morning until he hears the door open again. He looks up, expecting to find a nurse, or maybe a doctor, but instead, he’s met with a boy his age, purple-haired with deep indigo eyes, and a girl behind him with long obsidian hair braided and falling to her waist, with vivid sanguine eyes. His eyes widen at the same time theirs do as he recognizes the girl.

“Maki,” he exclaims at the same time the girl says his name. Surprise fills him- he hadn’t seen his childhood friend since his sisters- specifically, Akari- first started going missing and they’d moved away, but when he was much younger and had all his sisters with him, Yuki liked going to the orphanage next door and helping out there, playing with the children her age. It was there he met Maki, the only girl his age there, and they became close friends almost instantly. They’d completely lost contact when Rantaro moved, though.

The boy looks between them, bewildered, “Harumaki, you know this boy?”

Maki sighs, and nods, launching into a short explanation, then introducing the boy as “an idiot, Kaito Momota”, and the boy, Kaito, interjects, claiming to be the ‘Luminary of the Stars’. Maki doesn’t seem to be amused by this, and glares at him as her cheeks redden, but Rantaro can tell even after all these years that there’s no malice behind her ruby eyes.

Rantaro, though, is rather amused, “Rantaro Amami,” he introduces himself, extending a hand that Kaito takes and shakes without hesitation. “I stayed here overnight so I could apologize. For, uh. My father ran over that guy inside with his car.”

Maki stares at him. “Your father. The extremely rich guy. Ran over him.” she points at the door to the hospital room.

He sheepishly nods. “Yea. And I, uh, may or may not have felt guilty, so I stayed here.” he feels vaguely uncomfortable with both Kaito (who Maki obviously likes) and Maki herself staring at him, but he knows he deserves it.

At last, Maki walks forward, and slaps him hard. “That one,” she says, “is for Shuichi. My friend whom your father ran over.” Rantaro stays still, not saying anything even if his left cheek stings and hurts, because he knows he deserves it, when he caused so much pain and worry.

She backhands him across the face again, and this time he sees the reluctance in her face, the concern her eyes are so full of, and he knows that for the emotionless facade she puts up, she’s genuinely really worried for her friend and him. “And that’s because you’re being stupid,” she whispers, and Rantaro feels as if he’s about to cry, again, because he’s missed Maki so much and he’s touched, that she still cares for him after all those years. Proud, that she’s finally expressing herself more openly. The old Maki would’ve been too scared to even show the slightest bit of emotion, so anxious and scared of being hated by the world. As an orphan, Maki’s always carried around the knowledge that even her own parents don’t want her, that she’s so unlikeable that she deserves to be alone and abandoned in the dark, and she was always too scared to befriend the others in the orphanage. Rantaro was her first friend, and she must have felt very hurt when the boy had moved so suddenly without warning.

He feels guilty, guilty for leaving Maki alone to furl up and cry all alone, but he feels so much pride, with the way she’s finally comfortable in her own skin, that she’s made friends with other kids their age. He smiles at her despite how his cheeks are stinging badly with eyes brimming with tears as Maki steps back, and she smiles back at him. “Visiting hours started,” she says finally, “you really should check the time, you idiot. It’s half past nine in the morning.”

Rantaro laughs, “thanks for the reminder.” he turns to push the door open, but steps back, looking at Kaito and Maki. “You should go in first. He doesn’t know me, after all.”

Maki nods, and Kaito practically breaks the door down as it bursts open and he races in, followed by the girl, and Rantaro last.

The room the boy is staying in is bright, but not lit by artificial lighting- early morning sunlight shines in through a large window on the other side of the room. Glass fractures the light into a thousand different rays, coating the room in an almost ethereal glow. There’s a tree right outside the window, and Rantaro can see a few sparrows resting on the branches. It reminds him of Minori, his youngest sister, who’d loved animals and nature, but she especially loved sparrows, loved how they were small but so adorable, and yearned to spread her wings and take flight like they did. 

The room itself is clean and mostly empty, creating a spacious feeling as one enters. A cupboard lies to the side of the hospital bed, and there’s a movable desk in front of the boy, who’s sitting up when they arrive. His face brightens as he greets his two friends with a strained smile- probably due to the stitches and the pain, Rantaro thinks, and feels the guilt in his heart weighing it down again.

He notices with a start that the boy is actually really pretty. Rantaro normally identifies as asexual, no sexual attraction, be he can’t not admit that with his long eyelashes and curious green-grey eyes, the boy is adorable, and he finds his eyes widening and that he can’t take his eyes off the boy.

The boy’s face goes on alert mode when he sees Rantaro, though. “Ah, who are you? Why are you here?” he seems so scared, so shy, that Rantaro immediately feels the guilt double.

Rantaro hesitates, but he introduces himself. “I’m Rantaro Amami. I’m here because, well- my father kind of ran over you. With his car. I’m here to apologize and see if you’re alright.” he wishes with all his might that he’d forgive him, for causing so much misery. So much pain.

It’s the boy’s turn to widen his eyes, and he almost drops the cup he’s holding. “Wait, you- you’re the one the doctor talked about? You gave me CPR, right?” all traces of his former shyness is gone as he stares, shocked, at Rantaro.

Kaito and Maki’s gazes immediately snap to Rantaro, and he reddens under all the attention he’s being given. “Y- yes, but I did what I thought I should do, it’s my fault it happened, I hope you aren’t hurt that bad-”

Maki cuts him off, scoffing, but she wears a small smile on her face, “Don’t be an idiot, Taro,” she says, and Rantaro smiles at the use of the childhood nickname, “it isn’t your fault and you know it. Your father was the one who ran over Shuichi. It was an accident.” she shrugs. “Those happen all the time. It’s really nothing to feel guilty about.” She turns to Shuichi. “This idiot stayed here without sleeping all night, because he wanted to apologize.”

The boy nods feverently, shock still evident in his eyes. “You saved my life,” he adds. “The doctor told me if you hadn’t saved me and bandaged my wounds to stop the bleeding in time I would’ve bled to death. Maki’s right, don’t apologize.”

Rantaro smiles faintly at him. “How can I make it up to you, though? Can I, like, get you a drink or something, at least?”

The boy’s eyes light up at once, and Rantaro finds himself smiling wider, genuinely. “Could you get me a coffee, please? Black coffee, no sugar.”

Kaito laughs as Rantaro looks at the boy, surprised. “Coffee? Right after your surgery?”

The boy suddenly seems very defensive, “Researches show it’s actually beneficial? It can shake off the woozy aftereffects of whatever drugs administered, boost my alertness, help with constipatio-”

“Right,” Rantaro laughs fully for the first time since the accident, “got it. Why such… bitter coffee, though?”

It’s Kaito that answers this time, a grin hanging on his face, “Shuichi only drinks bitter coffee. My sidekick can’t stand things that are too sweet!” The boy nods in agreement, and Rantaro’s heart warms. 

Before he leaves to get the coffee, though, he turns back and asks, “oh, and before I go, your name…”

The boy smiles, “It’s Shuichi Saihara.”

The name stays with Rantaro as he runs to get the coffee from a nearby local coffee shop he really likes. A lovely name for a lovely boy. The smile Rantaro gets from Shuichi as he hands him the lukewarm coffee, still out of breath, is stunning and to Rantaro, it’s so sweet and beautiful that it’s warmer than any sunlight the sun can give, and prettier than even the most gorgeous nature phenomenon. He goes on to visit Shuichi every day, staying for hours and hours on end, bringing a black coffee sans sugar with him every time, and the smile Shuichi gives him every time makes his day. They grow closer, and closer, and by the time the other boy is released from the hospital, they’ve become best friends. 

On the last day of Shuichi staying in the hospital, he hands Shuichi the usual coffee, and Shuichi’s smile sends butterflies into his stomach and a blush to his cheeks. Shuichi grabs his hand as he says thank you, and the other boy’s hand is so cold and small, but Rantaro feels as though everything is right in the world, and for the first time ever since his sisters went missing he feels genuinely _happy._

When Shuichi’s released, he takes him to the coffee shop in person, and Shuichi’s curious eyes eagerly explore every detail of the warm cozy building. The series of actions lights up his world, and Rantaro smiles, and he doesn’t miss the grateful one on Shuichi’s face- sweet as the sugar he hates so much.

(it’s only when Rantaro is gone, and Kaede unknowingly passes him for the first time a black coffee without sugar from the same shop that she got for him on her way back from work, that Shuichi thinks back on all this, and cries.)

**Author's Note:**

> yesterday i told y'all that the really angsty piece was very hard and painful for me to write.
> 
> turns out, this is even harder :) i felt like my soul was being torn apart writing this, am i truly this incapable of writing fluff?
> 
> (the answer is yes but,,, still)  
> (this isn't even mostly fluff smh it should have been but i went overboard and didn't know how to describe the actual fluffy bit. i'm so sorryyy this is so bad smh
> 
> what can i say it was really rushed but like
> 
> HUGE thank yous to mochi, who inspired this, and aria, who helped me with making up japanese names loll 
> 
> no post tmr bc i drew sth but you'll get more stuff that's hopefully, uh, fluffier on thursday? no promises but y'know, stay tuned! thank you for reading and stay safe :)))
> 
> -arisa


End file.
